Thursday, October 29, 2015

Laos is a showcase
of Buddhist art and sculpture from one side to the other. Most Buddhist art is typically made
from metals like bronze, gold, and silver. Many of the larger and more
elaborate Lao sculptures were looted by the Siamese over several centuries and
taken to Thailand. Likewise, one of the largest gold sculptures found in Phra
Bang was originally thought to have been cast in Sri Lanka even though some of
the images suggest a later Khmer origin. Sculptures used a variety of other
mediums as well including brick-and-mortar and wood. Most of these statues are
of Buddha himself and either show him sitting in a meditative state or
reclining. One of the most popular places to see great examples of these
Buddhist statues (and Hindu statues as well) is Buddha Park, located in
Vientiane. The park was created in 1958, and most of the statues here are
created from reinforced concrete.

In 1970, workers in
a construction site unexpectedly discovered a kiln and ceramic works. They
ended up finding several kilns in this area, and topographic imaging shows
there may be several hundred kilns here.

Textiles and other
handicrafts are also an important part of Laotian art. Arts such as
paper-making, basket-weaving, embroidery, tapestry weaving, and woodcarving
have been passed down generation to generation. Dragons and other mythical
animals are often common themes in their artwork.

The French
introduced European-style painting and sculptures as well. One of the first
things they did was open up art schools around French Indochina to teach
drawing, painting, metalworking, and other arts. Some artists were lucky enough
to travel to France to continue their art studies. However, their society
didn’t have a place specifically for this European-style art. These artists
ended up painting mostly realistic paintings of their own land, people, and
culture for the sake of the (mostly French) tourists.

Laos has a long
history of literature and storytelling. Many of the early stories were epic
tales of a folkloric nature. Some of the largest and most well-preserved of
these epic poems include the stories of Sin Xay, Thao Hung Thao Cheuang, Phra Lak Phra Lam, The Rocket Festival, and others.

Mural showing Sin Xay epic in Thailand

There were also
many Buddhist writings; however, most of them were written in Pali, the language
of Buddhism. Some early writings were also translated and transcribed into Lao.
Other religious writings, such as animist writings, were often written from oral
histories and stories, but the ones that were translated and transcribed using
a Khmer script. Other nonreligious texts (like court documents, histories,
commerce documents) were often written in Lao or Thai.

After the French
arrived, the French language began to be introduced into the country. However,
it was only taught to the upper crust of Lao society who were able to afford
the French parochial schools newly set up there. Only a few French scholars
were interested in Lao literary traditions.

The first novel
composed entirely in Lao wasn’t published until 1944. Somchine Nginn’s novel The Sacred Buddha Image is about a
Lao-French detective looking for a stolen Buddha image. This book was published
amid a change that fell over the country. In some areas, the people were forced
to adopt Thai language and culture while the French were trying to emphasize
nationalism. It eventually set the Lao people to fight for their own
independence, which ultimately ended with a communist government. There are a
lot of sentiments regarding their identity that comes out in their literature.
During the Vietnam War, there were many pieces written about the war and its
effects. However, as a country under a communist rule, literature is required
to reflect the approval of the government. To go against the government isn’t a
safe thing to do, and authors who chose to criticize their government must often
do so from outside the country. Regardless, there have been many efforts to
preserve Lao literary traditions and to raise the literacy rates across the
country as an effort to appreciate their own written histories and voices.

Sunday, October 25, 2015

Years ago, I worked
at a Japanese camp in northern Minnesota (part of the Concordia Language Villages). One summer, there was a girl who worked with me—I forget her
name—who told me that she was Hmong. I had no idea what that meant. She explained
that her family originally came from Laos and came to Minnesota to live. While
attending high school there, she took Japanese classes. (Because of refugee
movements during the middle of the 20th century, Minnesota and
Wisconsin have the largest concentration of Hmong communities in the US,
outside of California.) And of course, she taught me all the bad words in Hmong
that I’ve completely forgotten by now.

The country’s name
refers to the Lao kingdoms. There were three kingdoms that were unified by the
French. The French added the final “s” to the name based on French spelling
rules. Many English speakers pronounce the “s” which is not pronounced in
French. So, technically the country is pronounced as “Lao.”

Laos is a
landlocked country in Southeast Asia. It’s surrounded by China and Myanmar to
the north; Vietnam to the east; Cambodia to the south; and Thailand to the
west. The Mekong River, an important river system in this region, makes up much
of the border between Laos and Thailand. Much of the land is forested and
mountainous with some plains here and there. The weather is tropical throughout
the year and experiences a definite monsoon season. Laos is home to hundreds of
species of tropical plants, birds, animals, insects, and marine life—including the
rare Irrawaddy river dolphin. They’re known for their characteristic small
heads that look like they’re smiling.

French Indochina

Humans have lived
in this area for tens of thousands of years: a human skull was found in
northern Laos that dated back 46,000 years. Archaeologists have found iron
tools and other objects indicating there was a complex society. There were
actually many kingdoms established in this area. The early prince Fa Ngum
established Theravada Buddhism as the official religion. He was also the
founder of the Lan Xang kingdom. Laos suffered many conflicts with Thailand,
Cambodia, and Vietnam up until the 1800s. During the late 1800s, the French
took control of this area and made it a French Protectorate. During WWII
several groups occupied Laos (known as French Indochina at that time). After
the war, the country briefly enjoyed a period of independence. Briefly. Like for
about a month. Then Japanese forces moved in and occupied it. But by the next
year, the French took back Laos as a Protectorate. The Laos rebelled several
times during the French occupancy. During the Vietnam War, Laos was the
recipient of many bomb attacks by US forces. In fact, it is often considered “the
most heavily bombed country on earth.” I saw a news program several years ago
where journalists were walking through Laos and could still find unexploded
ordinances lying around in fields. The highest point in the country, called
Phou Bia (looks like the word “phobia,” which may be pretty telling of the
area), can’t even be visited by tourists because of the vast number of
unexploded bombs there. The Pathet Lao was a communist group that is the Lao
version of the Khmer Rouge or the Viet Cong. In 1975, they took over the
government and turned the country into one of the few remaining communist
countries in the world. Numerous genocide and human rights violations,
especially to the Hmong, have been documented after the take-over. And because
of this, hundreds of thousands of Hmong refugees have fled the country to the China,
Vietnam, US, Thailand, France, and a number of other countries.

The capital city of
Vientiane is located in the northern part of Laos along the Thai border. The
name comes from the Pali language, and if you’ve studied any Buddhism like I
have, you’ll know that Pali is a very important in ancient Buddhist texts. The
name Vientiane literally means “city of sandalwood.” I happen to really like
the smell of sandalwood (I have a vanilla-sandalwood candle in my living room).
However, others argue it means “city of the moon.” (I’m sure the moon doesn’t
smell as great.) Regardless, this is the largest city in the country and is the
center for government, finance, and commerce. Even though the city has about
783,000 people (a little smaller than the size of Indianapolis, IN). The
spelling of the city is also based off of the French spelling: it was
originally called Viangchan.

The Laotian economy
heavily depends on trade with its neighbors, and although the country is still
a communist country, the US has lifted some of its trade embargoes against it.
About half of their economy is based on subsistence farming. Roughly 80% of the
people work in this field with the majority of the crops being rice. Investment
is also an important part of their economy as well. Luckily, this country is
also rich in mineral resources, and mining has become an industry that many
foreign countries invest in. Laos has two main exports: hydroelectric energy
and their own beer brand called Beerlao (which is supposed to be pretty tasty).
They also have a large number of exports in coffee as well. Tourism continues
to grow in the country, especially from France, even though much of the country
is lacking in basic infrastructure. The interesting thing about Laos is that many
businesses not only accept their own currency, but many also accept payment in
Thai bahts and US dollars as well.

About 2/3 of
Laotians are Buddhist, and more specifically Theravada Buddhist. Although
Buddhism has been established here for many centuries, there are also many
Laotians who practice pantheism/polytheism or animism. However, there are a
small number of Christians, Muslims, Hindus, and other religions found here and
there.

The official
language of the country is Lao and is closely related to Thai. Because of their
history, French is still used for certain government and business functions. In
fact, French is still taught in schools in Laos. Many students also go on to
study English because of its status as an international language.

Laos has a sense of
mystery about it, and there are many things about this country that seems
extraordinary. England has Stonehenge, but Laos has the Plain of Jars. For an
unknown reason and created by unknown peoples, hundreds of stone urns—some large
enough to hold a person—are spread in groups of five across a region of
northern Laos. And here’s a travel tip: apparently fees are only collected at
attractions if you enter through the main entrance. If you enter through side
entrances, it’s free. (Well, uh, some people kind of know that’s true for just
about any place, if you have access to the building codes, which are considered
public records…). And unlike the US and most other countries, the highest
officials in Laos only get paid $10/month. Even my Netflix bill is higher than
that. But I have a feeling that the food is going to be extraordinary and have
me smiling like an Irrawaddy dolphin.

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Several months ago, I attempted to make the Bolo à
Moda da Guiné Bissau (Cake in the Style of Guinea-Bissau), and it didn’t turn
out well at all. My springform cake pan was evidently bent, and all of the batter
leaked out onto the bottom of my oven. I tried to fix it, but I think it is
dead. I still haven’t thrown it out though. It’s probably ok for thicker
doughs, just not liquid batter type of mixtures. Like this one.

I think of it as a flan-cake.

However, a couple of weeks ago, I bought a 13”x9”
baking pan when I was out. And last weekend as I was contemplating getting out
of bed after waking up, I remembered that I never truly did go back and remake
this cake. I got up and pulled out the recipe, and lo and behold, I actually
had enough ingredients to make it! So, I tried this again using my new baking
pan this time. It wasn’t quite the same shape as the recipe suggested, but I
think the sun will continue to rise. (It did.)

My added additions that added more added flavor.

It seemed to me that because of the number of eggs
it uses, it turned out more like a custard instead of a cake per se. And when
it first came out of the oven, it smelled very much like flan. There was no
topping listed on the recipe, and I’m sure it’s probably meant to be eaten as
is. However, I took liberties to brush some simple syrup on top after it first
came out of the oven. When it had cooled, I mixed some vanilla icing with some
milk to make a weak icing of sorts and brushed it on, adding some sliced banana
and some shaved chocolate for decoration. The family seemed to really like it (especially
when chilled), and the kids wanted to eat it for breakfast (which I complied—it
had bananas on it and is made with eggs, so it’s practically breakfast anyway).
It made for a nice dessert, and I’m happy I remembered to go back and redo
this. I might make this again and top it with raspberries and chocolate instead,
or maybe I might add in some almond extract to the batter and top with crushed
hazelnuts. The possibilities are endless.

Sunday, October 18, 2015

The kids have been on fall break for the past
couple of weeks. But I have to say that it hasn’t been all that bad, actually.
They’ve watched a lot of videos, played video games, played with Legos and
pipecleaners, picked up books from the library, and generally just relaxed.
Until I remembered they had a fall break homework packet that needed to get
done, and my son had a ton more work than I actually realized. (Ooops.) And
then I remembered that my birthday was next week, so thanks to my parents, I got
to spend part of my birthday money to pay for my daughter’s glasses and buy
ingredients to cook today. (The trials and tribulations of being a broke
adult.)

Also called "Super Yummy Twisty Onion Bread."

Today, I started with making kattama, a type of
flatbread with onions. In a large bowl, I mixed together 1 tsp of salt in 200
mL of warm water, a yeast packet (about 1 Tbsp?), and about 4 c of flour. I
worked this until it became a smooth dough and let it sit for about an hour and
a half in order to let it rise. During this time, I gave the dough a quick
knead a couple times. Then I sliced about a half of an onion into small pieces
(not quite minced), melted some butter in a small sauce pan and fried them.
Once the dough was ready, I rolled it out until it was about a quarter inch
thick or so and spread the fried onions evenly onto the dough. Then I rolled up
the dough with the onions like a mat. Placing it in front of me, I sliced the
“log” into disks. Laying each disk in front of me, I rolled the disk out until
it was the size of a small plate (about 6” across or so). Now it comes time to
bake this, and it can be done two ways. The most popular way (and the way I
chose) is to fry this in a little bit of vegetable oil in a large skillet,
flipping it halfway. But it can also be baked in a 350ºF oven for about 20-25
minutes. I think frying it adds a little more flavor because it gives the dough
a crispy texture and flavor. I really liked this. Some pieces were a little
more crispy than others, but it went very well with the soup. The amount of
onions were perfect because it flavored it lightly but not overpowering it.

There's nothing wrong with some super fat noodles.

The main dish today is called lagman. I saw a
picture of this vegetable-noodle soup, and I just had to make it. I decided to
start with making the noodles. I mixed together some water, eggs, salt, and
then added in my flour and kneaded it together until the dough was soft and
elastic. Then I formed it into a ball, covered it in plastic wrap, and let it
rest for about 15 minutes. When it was ready, I cut my dough into two equal
sections, rolling one into a large circle. Using a liberal amount of flour to
keep it from sticking, I wrapped this around my rolling pin. Carefully pulling
the rolling pin out (which was harder than I thought), I cut the dough into
strips about a ½” wide. Some were a little thicker than others. (I sprinkled
oil on the noodles to keep them from sticking to each other in the bowl before
boiling them. But not before they sat there long enough to stick to each other.)
Once I had done this to all of the dough, I put it into a pot of boiling water
for about 5-6 minutes and then removed them. I was supposed to rinse them for
10 seconds, but I forgot. (I reserved the liquid for boiling the potato dumplings.)
These ended up being really thick noodles. I don’t mind thick noodles, but I
think it would’ve been better if I had cut them even smaller and oiled them
right away.

Tomorrow, I'm going to try it with the sriracha sauce and maybe some cilantro (if my cilantro hasn't turned into a half-liquid mess in the bottom of my refrigerator).

But, now it’s time to make the rest of the soup. I
julienned all of my vegetables (green bell pepper, carrot, and potatoes) and
set them to the side. Then I added some oil to my skillet and browned my ground
beef. (I should’ve bought a different cut of meat so I could have it in strips,
but I forgot and bought ground beef instead. Oh well.) When it was browned
well, I added in my onions and some black pepper, cumin, and salt and
stir-fried it all together. After a few minutes, I added in about a third of a
can of diced tomatoes, some minced garlic, and a little tomato sauce (in lieu
of tomato paste because I already had some in reserve from a few days ago). Now
comes time to add all the other vegetables I julienned earlier. After this sautéed
together for a few minutes, I poured in enough water into my large skillet to
soak all of the meat and vegetables and let it boil together for about 40
minutes. To serve this, I dipped out some of the noodles into a bowl and then
poured the soup on top of the noodles. Some people eat this with some chopping
scallions (which sounds good, but I forgot to buy) or some Sriracha sauce
(which I have a gigantic bottle of but forgot to use). I really liked this
soup—it was perfect for a cool fall day. I actually liked it with my super fat
noodles, too. The broth was flavorful, and the hint of cumin went a long way.

Too bad there's none left, thanks to my daughter.

I also made a dumpling called potato vereniki to go
with all of this. To make the dumpling, I mixed flour, water, and salt in a
bowl to make the dough. Then I boiled my potatoes and mashed them with some
chopped onions. I then rolled out some of the dough, cut a circle in it, filled
the circle with some of the potato mixture, and pressed the sides around the
potato ball. When I had done that to use up all of the dough, I put my
dumplings into a pot of boiling water for about 7-10 minutes and removed them.
These are to be served with melted butter, and although we ate these plain, my
daughter said she loved these the best. I made mine pretty large, so I only
yielded about five and a tiny extra one. Perhaps I should’ve served it with
melted butter because I thought they were somewhat on the bland side. Or
perhaps I should’ve added some salt and/or pepper to the potatoes.

These were surprisingly good. I think it would be good with a little cinnamon mixed in with the sugar. Or maybe almond extract mixed into the sour cream first. So many possibilities.

And finally, I chose a dessert of sorts. This super
simple recipe is called mïkchïma. I poured some breadcrumbs into a bowl and
then added some sugar and sour cream and mixed everything together until it was
consistent throughout the mixture. I put this in the refrigerator to chill
before serving. I wasn’t sure how to serve it, so I scooped some out and formed
it into a ball. It almost had the flavor and texture of cookie dough, but you
could definitely taste the sour cream. My son thought this was the best part of
the meal. (Of course he did.) My daughter thought they were really good until I
told her it was made with sour cream (which she detests), and then she thought
I was trying to poison her.

For a country that I knew very little about going into this, I was thoroughly pleased with how it all turned out.

This was definitely a meal to practice making
dough. (I wish it were the money kind of dough. I could definitely use some of
that.) Three-quarters of my recipes required me to make a dough as part of the
dish. But yet, each one was a little different. And I think that’s the great
thing about this project is finding so many different kinds of breads, cakes,
pastries, noodles, pasta, and other bread products. And many countries have
such as wide variety just within their own cuisine. Even less populated
countries like Kyrgyzstan offers such a wide variety of dishes in their
cuisine. Because of its location and history, their cuisine seems like a cross
between Russian, Chinese, and Middle Eastern food. And for that, I highly
enjoyed this meal. Immensely. Because diversity tastes good.

Saturday, October 17, 2015

Folk music in Kyrgyzstan shares many similarities
with its neighboring countries, such as Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan. After the
country fell under Russian rule, their music also pulled elements of Russian
music as well. Much of their traditional music is based on their long-standing
history of epic poetry. The Manas epic is one of the world’s longest poems,
coming in at nearly a half million lines. Reciting sections of the Manas epic
has also been a popular pastime as well. Many people have made a name for
themselves just for being able to recite large portions of this poem. One type
of musical style that is popular is called kui. This is a style of instrumental
music centered around the rural musical traditions of the Kipchak people in
both Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan. The topics range from philosophic ideas to the
love of nature.

Kyrgyz music is known for its ensemble music. The
Kambarkan Emsemble and Tengir-Too are two of the most well-known Kyrgyz
ensemble groups—not only in the country, but across the world as well. They’ve
almost become a representative of Kyrgyz music in general. They feature
traditional instruments and perform music by a number of Kyrgyz composers. The
Jetigen Children’s Ensemble is made up of children from a music school in
Bishkek. They have also been the recipients of numerous awards and
recognitions.

There are several instruments that are used in
Kyrgyz music. First of all, the komuz is probably the most important instrument
in Kyrgyz music. The komuz is a fretless stringed instrument that is often
viewed as a national symbol. Other instruments heard in their music include the
kyl kiak (a two-stringed instrument played upright, which is also considered an
important instrument in Kyrgyz culture), the chopo-choor (like an ocarina) and temir ooz komuz
(type of jaw harp, which always remind me of Appalachian mountain music), and
the sybyzgy (a type of flute played to the side). The dobulba (a type of frame
drum) and the asa-tayak (a wooden instrument with bells affixed to it) make up
some of their percussion instruments and have its roots in shamanism.

Dancing is an old tradition, but at one time it
looked like it might die out, especially during the communist years under
Russian rule. However, in recent times, there has been a regeneration of
traditional dancing among Kyrgyzstan’s youth. Dancing has traditionally been performed
at weddings and other joyful celebrations. One dance called the Kara Jorgo
(translating to “Black Stallion”) is particularly popular and is characterized
by quick arm, elbow, and wrist movements with brief pauses between the moves.
High steps and bent knees are countered with a move that looks like they’re trying
to do a lunge on their ankles. The whole dance has its roots in their ancient
nomadic, horse-loving culture that is also seen in neighboring countries as
well. Today, some of the moves have been updated and sped up (in comparison to
the styles of Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan), and there are actually flash mobs (made
of both men and women) who perform this dance in malls and other public places.
I find it interesting how they succeeded at making a centuries-old dance
popular again. To me, it’s like instead of people flash mobbing the Thriller
dance, they’re doing square dances instead.

There weren’t too many Kyrgyz artists I found out
there. I did manage to find a few albums on Spotify, though. Amazingly, they do
have a metal band following. I have no idea if it’s underground or not, but I’m
going to venture that it might be. I sampled parts of three different albums by
the band Darkestrah (who are now based in Germany). It’s pretty dark and
scream-y in places (of course), but from what I can tell, they tend to be more
of a folk metal band (Wikipedia classifies them as black metal though, but they
definitely have folk metal tendencies. I suppose it’s whatever they identify
with, and I respect that.). There are songs that also mix a classical music
feel with metal (like on the album Manas)
that I really liked. And surprisingly, they actually sang through part of a
song instead of strictly producing primordial vocal node-induced screams. And
that made the song 1000% better.

And now for something completely different: I came
across the music of Salamat Sadikova. On the album I listened to (The Voice of Kyrgyzstan), she primarily
sings accompanied by an acoustic banjo-sounding instrument (I’m guessing this
may be the komuz). The melodic styles seem pretty consonant with a noted
lowered note here and there, which may be an influence left over from Middle
Eastern traditions. She’s known for being able to hold notes for a ridiculously
long time.

Kyrgyzstan also has a very limited number of
hip-hop artists. There is a lot of information about artists, but not so much
available on Spotify. I did listen to a DJ/artist called Dr. Twist. I thought his
music was pretty good, although it was mostly instrumental. Actually, I liked
his stuff a lot; I’d like to have a copy of some of his stuff. I found another
hip-hop artist on YouTube called Tata Ulan who has a sound and flow that
reminds me of the early- to mid-1990s. I found a song by an artist by the name
of Kyrgyz Djigit “Alai” that was a little better, although the vocals could’ve
been tighter in places. But I give them all credit for trying to do their thing.
I found several videos posted from the Kyrgyz-American Hip Hop Fest in Bishkek
and in Osh, and it’s evidently a highly popular event.

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Kyrgyzstan is known for its arts and crafts. More
specifically, they excel at the art of felt work, embroidery, and weaving. Many
of the nomadic people still live in traditional houses called yurts: these are like
large round tent-like homes that can be packed up and moved. Yurts are often
decorated with a number of rugs and woven mats on the inside. They often make
carpets out of felt with ornamentations called a “skyrdak.” It’s generally made
out of wool, painted with bright colors, and is usually about 4m x 2m (13.1 ft
x 6.6 ft). A variation of this is the “ala kiyiz,” which is not sewed together
but rather rolled together.

Skyrdak

Before they lay the carpets on the ground, they
place woven mats under them first. These woven mats are called “chiy” and are
made with straw and colored threads of wool. They are designed to keep the
moisture off of the carpets.

Chiy

Embroidery is also important to the Kyrgyz culture
and is chiefly a women’s occupation. It’s namely used on wall hangings, bags,
and clothing. Leatherwork is also valued for use in horse equipment, shoes,
clothing, and other pieces of equipment. Woodworking is also essential and is often
utilized in furniture, cooking utensils and other tools, game boards, and
musical instruments. Silver, especially in the form of jewelry, is deemed
sacred and is thought to keep evil spirits away. I’ve always liked silver jewelry
better than gold since I was a teenager, so I think I’d fit right in.

As far as painting goes, it wasn’t something their
culture did for a long time. You have to remember for many centuries, much of
their culture was nomadic, so painting wasn’t exactly conducive to that
lifestyle. But as cities began to take hold and especially when country fell
underneath Russian rule, the arts were highly subsidized and encouraged. Art
schools were established. Once they gained their independence after Russia
broke apart, their economy collapsed, and the arts were the first to suffer.
However, some art galleries have reopened and artists are painting and creating
again. Although many styles of art are taught in the art schools, many Kyrgyz artists
latch onto realism and portrait painting (which is odd considering Kyrgyzstan
is primarily a Muslim country, and painting human forms is traditionally
prohibited in Islam. This is probably allowed due to their lack of devoutness.).

by Semen Chuikov

By far, the most well-known literary work is the
Manas epic. It’s one of the world’s longest epic poems, coming in at around a
half million lines. (In comparison, it’s roughly 20 times longer than Homer’s Odyssey.) This poem tells the historical
accounts of Manas and his efforts to unite all of the tribes in the Kyrgyz lands
to fight against the Chinese and Uyghurs and others.

Statue of Manas

Today, most Kyrgyz writers write in either Russian
or Kyrgyz, and author Chyngyz Aitmatov writes in both. Aitmatov is often
considered one of Kyrgyzstan’s most well-known authors. His first novel was
published in 1956 and has published many novels with his latest novel being
published in 2006. His most famous works include Jamilia, The White Steamboat, The
Girl With the Red Scarf, and The DayLasts More Than a Hundred Years. Many of these also have English language
translations. He won the Lenin Prize in 1963 for Tales of Mountains and Steppes, a compilation of several stories.

Other Kyrgyz writers include Kasïmalï Bayalinov whose
story “Ajar” was the first short story published 1927 and Tügölbay Sïdïkbekov
whose novel Keng-Suu was the first
novel published in 1937. Folklore has influenced poetry through the efforts of Joomart
Bökönbaev, Jusup Turusbekov, Kubanïchbek Malikov, and Aalï Tokombaev. The first
newspaper, Erkin Too, was created in
1924, and thus, the Kyrgyz press was born.

There have also been a handful of books written
about Kyrgyzstan, mostly by Americans and several of them Peace Corps members. Other
Americans who found themselves in the country have written about their
experiences as well.

Sunday, October 11, 2015

About ten years ago, I took a job in a 7th­–8th
grade middle school working in the Resource Department (what’s typically called
“special education” elsewhere). The students in this program were mostly there
for learning disabilities and some behavioral issues. Part of my job was to
help the kids with reading their homework and tests, re-explaining directions,
and keeping them on task by sitting in on their classes. Geography has changed
a bit since when I was in middle school, and although I had a college degree,
the first time I truly learned anything about Kyrgyzstan was when I was sitting
in on a 7th grade social studies class in 2004. The kids never knew
that I had to memorize these countries along with them; yes, these
former-Russian countries have been around for over a decade at that time, but I
had barely even glanced at them on a map. And now it’s come back into my life.

If you told me this was Switzerland, I'd full-heartedly believe you.

Kyrgyzstan literally means “land of the Kyrgyz.” The
term Kyrgyz is stemmed from the Turkic word meaning “forty,” referring to the
forty clans of Manas. Manas was a local hero who brought together forty
different clans in order to fight against the invading Uyghurs. If you look at
the literal translation of the word “Kyrgyz,” it means “we are forty.” (My
daughter asked me, “What happens when you turn 41?”)

Kyrgyzstan is a landlocked country located in
Central Asia, surrounded by Kazakhstan to the north, China to the east,
Tajikistan to the southwest, and Uzbekistan to the west. The Tian Shan Mountains
cover roughly 80% of the land with several rivers running off from the
mountains. In the northern regions of the country, the Issyk-Kul Lake is not
only Kyrgyzstan’s largest lake, but it’s second only to Lake Titicaca in
Bolivia as far as largest mountain lakes go.

The mountain regions keep the climate cooler and drier
and can vary at different variations. The upper elevations typically experience
sub-zero temperatures for over a month during the winter months. However, there
are also areas of the country that can reach temperatures of over 100ºF during
the summer.

The first people who were thought to move into this
area were the Scythians. They united and reached their peak when they
collectively defeated the Uyghurs in 840 AD. As the Mongol Empire expanded
their boundaries, the Kyrgyz peacefully joined them. Traders between Europe,
the Middle East, and the Far East used what was called the Silk Road, a series
of trade routes across the land and water that linked major trade cities
together. Issyk-Kul Lake was a major resting stop along the way. Between the 17th–19th
centuries, this area was also controlled by the Mongols, the Chinese, and the
Uzbeks before Russia moved in and took the land for themselves. Many of the
nomadic tribes continued to travel across the mountains between Kyrgyzstan and
China. Under Russian rule, the Kyrgyz saw many improvements such as literacy,
economic stability, and improvements in infrastructure. They renamed the
capital to Frunze. Tensions between the Uzbeks and the Kyrgyz in 1990 were the
beginning of a larger movement toward independence. In 2005, an uprising known
as the Tulip Revolution took place in the capital of Bishkek. Several
Parliament members were killed over the course of the next year and were linked
to illegal business ventures and organized crime; the city was looted during
the riots that ensued. Part of the results and findings of this revolution is
what places Kyrgyzstan among the most corrupt countries in the world. Ethnic
clashes continue to occur, and at one point Kyrgyzstan asked for Russia’s help
in dealing with this, but this was denied and caused a big stink between the
two countries. However, Russia did send some humanitarian aid in the end.

You can see the remnants of Russian architecture.

The capital and largest city in the country is
Bishkek. The city was originally founded as a fortress city called Pishpek.
According to some historians, the name is thought to have derived from the word
for the churn used to make their national drink of fermented mare’s (female
horse) milk. (I read about this drink when I did Kazakhstan as well.) The city
was later renamed Frunze after Lenin’s close friend who was born in Bishkek.
Today, the city has many universities spread throughout it along with sporting
venues, a public transit system, traditional markets, shopping centers, and
parks. The city is also the center of government and financial services. There
are still many Russian-inspired buildings still standing throughout the city.

Kyrgyzstan is the second-poorest country in Central
Asia, and it’s also the second-poorest country in the former Soviet countries.
Roughly one-third of its people live below the poverty line. Most of their
economic woes are due to the break-up of Soviet countries and the subsequent
loss of established trading partners. In the past 20 years, a significant
portion of the economy comes from remittances from Kyrgyz workers who moved to
Russia (or other countries) for work. However, the country is rich in mineral
reserves: gold, coal, antimony, uranium, and others and has an established
hydroelectric power industry. Kyrgyzstan also exports a large amount of wool,
meats, dairy products, fruits, and nuts.

The vast majority of Kyrgyz people—roughly 80%—are
Muslim. The remaining 20% are made up of mostly Russian Orthodoxy and a number
of smaller pockets of other religious followings. During the Soviet years,
atheism was encouraged, (and by “encouraged,” I mean “mandated”), but today,
Islam is more of a cultural practice rather than so much of a devout religious
one.

Saying Hello/Hi in Kyrgyz

Russian remains an official language of Kyrgyzstan
along with the Kyrgyz language. Kyrgyz is a Turkic language that is related to
Kazakh and a number of other languages. It originally used the Arabic script,
later switching to the Latin script in 1928, and switching again to the
Cyrillic script in 1941. Although most business and politics are still
conducted in Russian, the use of Kyrgyz is becoming a growing trend and is
often simultaneously translated along with Russian. Russian, Uzbek, and English
are the most common second languages studied in Kyrgyzstan.

While Kyrgyz culture remains relatively unknown to
many around the world, there are things about this country that stick out. For
one, it has one of the world’s largest epic poems written (the “Manas” epic
comes in at around 500,000 lines). If you’re a fan of walnuts, Kyrgyzstan has
one of the largest walnut forests in the world. The glaciers of the Tian Shan
are often watched and studied by scientists as evidence of climate change: there
is evidence showing they are slowly starting to retreat. The Kyrgyz people are
also a horse-loving people like their Kazakh neighbors, and they are famous for
the sport of kok-boru (like polo, but played with a headless goat instead of a
ball--I found out that it's also called buzkashi in Afghanistan, which I already knew of). And while Kazakhstan is attributed the home of the apple, Kyrgyzstan
boasts itself as the home of prunes and cherries. I’m sure there will be more
things I discover while researching Kyrgyzstan this week. I’m certain of it.

Sunday, October 4, 2015

So, autumn finally came to Indiana. The minute the calendar
flipped over to October 1, the temperatures started dropping, and I had to pull
out my sweaters and jackets. And for someone who loves to go barefoot and wear
sandals, I was sad that I actually had to wear shoes and socks again. And the kids are home for their two-week fall break. I imagine
the trees will start turning colors here in another week or so. But today, I
will hold onto warmer weather by cooking food from Kuwait today where it’s 102º
right now.

I've always liked spinach dip, but most of it here is made with MSG. So, I'm really glad I can make this myself now.

I actually started off with making a Kuwaiti yogurt spinach
dip so that I have time for it to cool. I took my spinach and made sure all the
stems were off of the leaves. I bought it as a salad mix of baby spinach, so
most of the hard work was already done, but there were still quite a few stems
to pinch. I put this in a large pot and covered it with water. Once I brought
it to a boil, I let it simmer for 10 minutes. Then I strained it in a colander
and let it cool. When it was cool enough, I put it on a cutting board, chopped
it up finely, and put it in a large bowl. Then I added in some minced onion,
lemon juice, salt, and pepper. When I mixed everything together, I added in
some plain yogurt and mixed that in as well. It seemed that the lemon juice was really overpowering; I
tried adding in more pepper to give it a lemon-pepper taste, but it just wasn’t
happening. I put this in the refrigerator to cool until it was time to eat. The
recipe suggested to top this with dried or chopped mint as a garnish, but I
think I’ll just add it to my portion. I liked the addition. I thought it
actually went well with the lemon flavor. My husband already gagged at this
suggestion. The recipe also recommended to use pita bread to dip in this, but I
used some garlic naan instead. I liked this dip, although I think I’ll only use
1 Tbsp of lemon juice next time. I even dipped sliced green bell peppers into
it. It would go great with a vegetable tray.

Confession: I ate two pieces before I told anyone it was even done.

Next, I got started with the bread. I chose Kuwaiti date
bread. Dates are incredibly popular in this part of the world. I first soaked 1
c of dates in 1 c warm water. I bought mine already pitted and chopped, but if
you buy fresh dates, you’ll have to do that part yourself. In a separate bowl,
I mixed 2 c of flour, 2 tsp baking powder, and a pinch of salt together. In a
third bowl, I creamed together 2 Tbsp butter with ½ c sugar and an egg. Then I
added the creamed butter mixture to the flour and then added in the dates with
the water to the mixture, mixing it all to incorporate everything. I added in about
a 1/4 c of what is called “nut topping” to the dough and mixed it in
thoroughly. (The recipe calls for 1 c of chopped walnuts or pecans, but I went
with nut topping instead, which is chopped peanuts and pecans. I’m sure the
change in flavor is negligible. I also cut down on the amount because I didn’t
want the nuts to overpower the dates.) Then I transferred the dough into a
greased loaf pan. This baked in a 450ºF oven for 33 minutes until it had a
golden color on top. That might have been about a minute or two too long. I thought
it was starting to get a little too dark on top and on the sides, but I think I
caught it before it burnt. It was actually perfect. I loved this so much, I am
thinking of making this for Thanksgiving next month. I’m really glad I cut down
on the nuts because I could definitely taste them (especially the peanuts
part), but because they were chopped small, it didn’t take away from the dates,
which is the main ingredient. The crumb was small and moist yet the crust was
crispy. Stunningly perfect. Even my kids loved it. In fact, there is less than half
of the loaf left.

[Enter smello-vision here] [Error: can't actually do that. Too bad, so sad. I get to enjoy it all.]

The main dish today is Kuwaiti Shrimp with Rice. One of
their most famous dishes is machboos. But since Kuwait and Bahrain share
similar cuisines and I had already made a Bahraini machboos when I cooked for
that country, I wanted to try a different recipe. So, I found this one. I
thought it would be a good reflection of the importance of seafood in their
cuisine. First I soaked my saffron threads in a little water with a touch of
almond extract in it (in lieu of rosewater; the flavor is different, but I’m
hoping this will still do the job). Then I cooked my shrimp in a saucepan with
some turmeric and salt and enough water to boil the shrimp. Once they were
fully cooked, I drained and preserved the shrimp water for my rice later. I also
had to pull the outer shell, legs, tail, and black thread from all of the
shrimp as well. I had never cooked raw shrimp; I always buy fully cooked
shrimp, so this was a learning experience in “I truly hope I’m not killing my
family with undercooked shellfish.” I was unprepared for the array of color
changes one small shrimp displays in its delicious afterlife. Anyway, in a separate
bowl, I mixed my minced garlic, ginger, and green peppers together and set
aside. I took out a saucepan and sautéed my onions until they were translucent
with a touch of lemon juice, then I added in my garlic-ginger-green pepper mix
to it. (I left out the black lime powder from this mix since I had no idea where
to find it, and it would probably be expensive if I did; I substituted the touch
of lemon juice instead.). To this I added in the rest of the spices: baharat
mix (I luckily still had some made from when I cooked from Bahrain), salt,
cardamom powder, turmeric, vegetable oil, and coriander. After stirring for a
few minutes, I added the shrimp back in and let it cook for a few more minutes,
sprinkling in a little of the fake saffron-rosewater mix into it. I covered it
and let it simmer for a few more minutes before taking it off the heat.

But now it’s time for the rice. In my large deep-sided
skillet, I used some of the reserved shrimp broth with some water and adding in
some cardamom pods, cinnamon, black pepper, and clove (other than the cardamom
pods, I didn’t have whole spices for the last three, so I was hoping the ground
versions wouldn’t make this gross, which it didn’t). Once it was all boiling, I
added in a pinch of salt as well. Then I added in my rice and stirred so it
wouldn’t stick, boiling this until it was half cooked (about 8-10 minutes or
so). Then I made a well, pouring the shrimp mix into the well, and covering it
back with the rice I took out. I poured in the last of the fake
saffron-rosewater on top of that and cooked for another 20 minutes. I was also
worried that my rice would burn, so I added in some more water (probably about
another ¼ c water). To serve this, I’m supposed to somehow dig out my shrimp
from inside the rice and serve them separately. Maybe others can do that, but I
just left the shrimp in the middle. This dish was also a winner—everyone loved
this. The flavors melded together in absolute perfection. I just wish I had
more shrimp. The balance of sweet spices with more subtle savory flavors (like
the shrimp water flavoring the rice) is the key to this dish.

I really liked this, and no, I didn't share either. I really meant to save some for others. I tried. Sorry, not sorry.

Finally, I made a traditional-style saffron-cardamom Kuwaiti tea. I doubled
this recipe: mixing together water, saffron, and cardamom in a saucepan and
bringing it to a boil. Then I added in four green tea bags and let it steep for
a few minutes. I removed the cardamom pods and tea bags before adding in a
little bit of sugar before pouring a glass. My husband thought it smelled like
medicine, but I thought it smelled good. I think he was actually smelling the
black cardamom pods. I think it was a good finish to the meal.

As usual, I always look forward to cooking my meals. And I
always pick recipes that I’m fairly sure I’d like. But sometimes a recipe will
surprise me. It either surprises me at its simplicity or by its complexity. The
shrimp and rice had a very complex flavor. When I look at Islamic architecture,
it’s very much geometry-based in both design and aesthetics. This careful
planning and precision in the details makes or breaks a space. It’s the same
with their cooking and the balance between sweet, sour, spicy, and savory.
These dishes have had centuries in the making, and it’s evident by the number
of spices they used that they were at the hub of the spice trade—it was the
best of all possible worlds. And I’m grateful I got a chance to experience this
in a remotely miniscule way.

Saturday, October 3, 2015

Kuwait’s position at the head of the Persian Gulf and as a
major port for the shipping industry has definitely defined itself as a
seafaring country. And this seafaring culture has directly influenced their
music as well. Kuwait City is one of the larger ports in this area with people
coming and going from all over the Middle East, Africa, India, and other parts
of Asia. This merge of cultures also has a direct effect on Kuwaiti music.

One style of song, called fidjeri, is stemmed from their once-renowned pearl diving industry.
It includes a lead singer with a chorus who sings backup accompanied by drums
and clapping. There are actually eight different genres, some reserved for
where you were singing these songs. Two styles called al arda al bahariya and al-nahma
were inspired from the sailing culture. Liwa
and fann al-tanbura are styles that
developed out of various East African traditions.

Kuwait has always been a frontrunner when it comes to music
in the Gulf countries. During the 1970s, Kuwaitis were known for producing a
type of bluesy music called “sawt.” Sawt is performed in other countries in the
region as well. Much of the first commercially recorded music was produced in
studios located in Kuwait whose music became popular throughout the
Arabic-speaking world. Artists have also risen to notoriety through popular TV shows
as well. Although much of their early music history was preserved and documented,
a large portion of this history was destroyed during the Gulf War when Iraq
invaded the country.

Many of the dances in Kuwait are related to the sea,
sailors’ life, boats, etc. But there are also songs and dances that have to do
with the desert as well. It’s quite common for many of these dance songs to use
the zither and the lute, and many dances include the performers clapping along
in rhythm while dancing. There are a variety of other dances including the ardah, which showcases the performer’s
sword skills. (I certainly hope you start out with wooden swords; otherwise
this could end badly.) These dances are also accompanied by drumming and a
poetry reading (the three together seem a little random). Weddings and other
social events are also popular places for other dances such as the tanboura, the samri, and the khamari.

I couldn’t find a lot of artists on Spotify, but I did find
a few and listened to them. I found a couple of songs by Nawal al-Kuwaitiya. It
was slower and had a classical music feel to them mixed with classical Middle
Eastern instruments. I also noticed the reliance of the chorus of background
singers who accompany the lead singer.

I also listened to Nabeel Shuail. His music is built on
Middle Eastern percussion rhythms and utilizes other regional instruments such
as the tabla and is accompanied by a string section. Like the vast majority of
music coming from Kuwait, it is sung in Arabic. It also makes use of the chorus
of background singers as well.

I found Abdallah al-Rowaished’s album Meta Bansaak and listened to several songs from this album. I
thought it was pretty catchy. The string part was definitely built on Arabian
melodic scales. He also made use of the chorus accompanying the lead singer.
There was some variety in musical style (some fast songs, some slower songs).
It also seems at times that there might be some use of electronic instrument
(synthesizers, perhaps?) along with the acoustic instruments. However, I found this video that looks like they were inspired of the Indian Bollywood style of singing and dancing.

Bashar al-Shatty is the only one I listened to on Spotify
who had any kind of Western pop sound in his music. He still incorporated all
of the traditional sounds (the background chorus, the traditional instruments,
the Arabian melodic scales), but there was definitely more of a Western sound emerging
in a few of his songs. There were other artists out there who fell into this
category as well, but from what I could tell from my searches, most were kind
of underground or local bands.

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About Me

I'm really nerdy. I have several writing projects going on, and I also have a really long list of books I'm working my way through; I'm still adding books to it, so in essence, I'll never get through it. I'm an amateur food and culture blogger, an amateur baker and cook, an amateur musicologist, an amateur grammarian, an amateur know-it-all, and a professional dreamer. Follow me on Twitter: @KayoSmada.